


Nothing Ever Stays Easy

by RavenGrey



Category: The Outsiders - S. E. Hinton
Genre: Consensual Underage Sex, Kissing, M/M, Mutual Masturbation, almost a three-some, handjobs, this is pretty much just porn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-21
Updated: 2015-06-21
Packaged: 2018-04-05 09:34:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,157
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4174884
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RavenGrey/pseuds/RavenGrey
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dallas smiles a little then and Johnny practically glows while Pony laughs around his smoke. It’s an easy moment, the kind that let’s that tight thing that usually sits high up in his shoulders relax, but nothing ever stays easy.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Nothing Ever Stays Easy

**Author's Note:**

> lol i'm garbage

            Dally wonders, with his fingers wrapped around Pony’s pretty dick how quick Darry’d kill him he ever found out that he was jerking his little brother off.

            Tries to imagine the look on that handsome face if he found out that Johnny was getting the same, both of them straddling a thigh in the shithole of a room he’d been crashing in.

            He’s pretty sure it’d be within seconds, he’d probably rip his dick off or somethin’, but that doesn’t do a damn thing to discourage him from coaxing those desperate little sounds from Pony when he circles his flushed head with his thumb.

            “Damn, I’m starting to get why they named you Ponyboy.” Dally whistles lowly when Pony’s unfairly big dick jerks in his hand and Johnny laughs, breathless and giddy. Pony just looks confused, smooth cheeks flushed cherry red and lips pursed.

            “You’re a riot Dally.” Pony says, eyebrows crinkled. He’s red all the way to his ears and the stranglehold Dally has on him ain’t helping any. He thinks he knows what Dally means and it makes his cheeks burn like he’s been smacked. He’d never really thought about that and his eyes flick down to where Dally’s hand is wrapped around him.  

            “Hung like a horse?” Dally asks with a smirk, keeping up the circles over the tip of Pony’s dick while he strokes Johnny from base to tip. Pony’s too busy gasping to reply and Johnny’s got his wrist clamped between his teeth to muffle the needy sounds that spill from his throat.

            Dally tugs Johnny’s sleeve a few times and after the third tug, Johnny unclamps his teeth, lips trembling already. Johnny’s wrist has the imprint of his teeth and Pony frowns a little and rubs at them.

            Dally slides his other thumb through the shiny slick mess Johnny’s making as he rocks uncertainly into the circle of Dally’s hand.

            His legs are wide open to fit the both of them, and it’s a tight squeeze, but he’s got a lapful of cold boys with eager hands and chattering teeth and he can’t really find it in him to complain.

            He brings his wet thumb to his mouth, just because he can, and licks it clean. Johnny makes a quiet sound in his throat, soft and amazed, huge eyes locked on the flick of Dally’s tongue. He makes a sound when Dally smiles real slow at him, that sounds like maybe it could have come from a kitten.

            Johnny’s lips are a little chapped and Pony’s are smooth and pink, and they bump together messily when Dally puts a hand on each of their necks and impatiently coaxes their mouths together.

            They turn just enough to kiss, hesitant and unsure of each other until Johnny nips at Pony’s bottom lip and he responds by gripping Johnny by the front of his jacket and hauling him in so they can lock lips.

            Dally’s sprawled out on the bare mattress, head propped up against the filthy wall so he has a better view as they share timid kisses that remind him of puppies bumping noses. Not that he has much experience with puppies. And puppies usually don’t make him hard as diamonds.

            Johnny rests his hand light as a hummingbird on Pony’s shoulder, the other tapping out a nervous rhythm on his own thigh.

            Their kisses are sloppy, at best, Pony not doing much of anything with his lips and Johnny mouthing hungrily at Pony’s, like he’s starving for it.

            Pony catches on real quick and tries to give it to him, one hand fisted in Johnny’s jacket while the other lies flat against Johnny’s chest. Dally imagines Johnny’s heart is pounding under Pony’s hand, that Pony’s blue-tipped fingers are starting to leech the heat that Johnny’s radiates.

             He lets them go at it just long enough to start to forget he’s there, and then he pumps the both of them, adding in a little flick of his wrist that makes Johnny go stiff against Pony.

            Dally slides his hand down and grips Johnny by the base of his dick, watching Pony press light kisses to the corner of his mouth and Johnny nearly bites a hole in his lip as his orgasm backs down. Dally, bastard that he is, uses that sweet moment to reach down and cup Pony’s balls.

            Pony moans into Johnny’s mouth, a shy sound that sparks something deep in Dally’s gut and makes his dick jerk in his ratty jeans. He wonders, dick aching, if this is the first time anyone has ever touched them like this. Johnny maybe not, and if that thought don’t make his blood boil he don’t know what does, but he doubts anyone’s ever laid their filthy hands on Darry’s pristine Ponyboy.

           Johhny ain’t much younger than him, but Pony’s only 14 and he feels a squiggle of guilt that he squashes down. He didn’t start it, is the only argument he can think of, and he admits it’s pretty weak ‘cause he sure as sure shit didn’t put a stop to it when Johnny had hugged him real tight around the middle and Pony had looked up at him with his earnest green eyes.

            They’d both still been shaking like half-drowned rats, Johnny cause he’d just a killed someone and Pony because he’d nearly been drowned and maybe he’d pulled them both in close.

            Maybe. Maybe he’d rubbed rough circles over their backs, rested his cheek against Johnny’s greased hair but the rest had been them.

            The pair of them, pressing close, trying to leech his heat, toppling the lot of them over onto the ancient bed that made a God awful noise in protest. Pulling shocked, giggly laughter from the both of them and a reluctant smile from him, their ice-cold fingers pressing against the bare skin of his chest, skirting bruises.   

            It’s how they’d ended up here, with Pony leaking pre-come all over himself and Dally’s scarred knuckles. Johnny’s making desperate little sounds as Dally moves his hand over soft skin and Dally wonders if he’s ever been this hard in his life.

            He figures he probably ought to do something about that, so he sits up long enough to coax Johnny’s hand from Pony’s shoulder and Pony’s from Johnny’s jacket. Pony’s eyelashes flutter open, green eyes bright and curious and Johnny cuts his eyes to Dally. Big, dark puppy dog eyes that shine with a fragile kind of excitement.

            Johnny’s lips fall open in a perfect ‘o’ when he curls Pony’s fingers around Johnny’s dick, coaches him through a few strokes until he gets the hang of it. Dally can’t think of anything he’s seen that’s prettier than Pony’s thin fingers wrapped around Johnny.

            Johnny’s hand moves eagerly to grip Pony, the first stroke sloppy and loose, and the next one not much better. He gets the hang of it real quick though, hand moving fast over Pony.

            “ _Dang Johnny_.” Pony breathes out and Johnny shudders, pupils blown wide, and tightens his tentative grip. The spill of sound from Pony curls wicked hot in Dally’s gut and he gets a hand around himself, watching the rough start-stop of their hands as they touch each other.

             “Dang Johnny.” Dally agrees with a smirk when the smaller boy coaxes a fat bead of pre-come from Pony’s surprisingly thick dick. Johnny gives him a smile, the kind that just quirks the corner of his mouth but lights up his whole face and Pony’s face manages to go a new shade of hot rod-red.

            “Ya’ll ain’t funny.” Pony says, eyelids heavy and lips twitching enough to let them both know that they’re kind of funny.

            “We’re a little funny.” Johnny murmurs, voice cracking towards the end, and Dally grins while Pony full out smiles and dazzles the both of them.

            Pony’s too handsome for his own good, Dally thinks, bottom lip caught between his teeth as he fists himself rough and dirty. They both are, Johnny and Pony, too damn pretty and Dally comes with a bitten off groan. His hips jerk once and he sucks in a harsh breath when the twitching of his stomach muscles jostles his ribs. 

            Johnny’s eyes are full of concern when he turns to look at Dally and then they go hot, his hand stuttering over Ponyboy’s pretty flushed dick as he loses his rhythm. Pony’s eyes   are on him too, curious and intent, as he watches Dally paint his lightly muscled stomach with streaks of white.

            Pony’s fingers twitch, like maybe he wants to touch, but he’s stays rock still while Dally slides his long fingers over his pulsing length, wringing the last bit of his orgasm out.

            The silence that follows is punctuated with Dallas’ slightly erratic breaths Pony and Johnny watching him so closely that he tilts his hips up and jostles the both of them.  

            “The fuck you the lookin’ at?”  

            “Dang Dally.” They say in unison and then grin at each other. They’re both still flushed and Pony’s just about trying to bite a hole in his lip. Johnny’s not looking much better, fingers wrapped so tight around Pony he’s starting to wonder how Pony’s not hurting.

“Shut it.” His snarl is slightly ruined by the rasp in his voice and he clears his throat with a grunt “Get on with it; I ain’t got all night to babysit you two knuckleheads.”

“Wouldn’t take all night.” Pony murmurs with a little grin, cheeks flushed dark pink, but he slides his hand down Johnny’s shaft, all slow and purposeful and too damn curious, to gingerly cup Johnny’s balls.

             Anything Dally might have said in reply dies unceremoniously in his throat when Johnny’s back goes real stiff and his breath leaves him all in one great huff, like he’s been stabbed.

            Johnny’s eyelashes flutter closed and he comes with a very soft “oh” that does dangerous things to Dally’s insides and has Pony watching Johnny with such an intense look on his unlined face that Dally’s stomach does a weird little swoop. Johnny’s nails dig little crescents into Pony’s skin, not hard enough to do any damage but hard enough that Pony’s eyes are starting to roll back in his head.

            With a little smirk that both of them are too gone to notice, Dally overlaps their hands with his. The backs of their fingers are warm against his palms and when he tightens his grip Johnny moans, high and needy and Pony’s hips jerk. He thumbs Pony’s head when he starts to come, smearing Johnny’s fingers in the process, and Ponyboy shudders out a shaky little breath.

            He fists his free hand in Johnny’s jacket, hips rocking in short little thrusts as Johnny and Dally stroke him through one of the most intensely arousing moments of his young life.

            There’s come just about everywhere when the last few trembles shake their way out of their frames and Dally gives ‘em a minute to catch their breath. Johnny’s breaths are quiet, almost controlled, but Pony’s breathing like he just ran a mile. Dally smirks at him, offering Johnny the ratty sheet he’d been using as a blanket to clean his hand after he wipes himself down. He tucks himself back into his jeans with a soft hiss while Johnny swipes at the mess they’d made.

            There are splotches of wet on Johnny and Pony’s jeans, but he reckons a little bit of come ain’t the worst thing that’s ever been on them. Johnny hands the sheet off to Pony, who takes it with a mumbled thank you.

            “It’s all that smokin’ you do Pony.”

            “You smoke every bit as much as I do.” Pony huffs, cleaning his hand and then taking the smoke Dally offers him. Johnny laughs and puts his own cigarette between his lips and holds still while Dally lights it. He repeats the process with Pony and watches the both of them, still astride his thighs, with languid grace.

            “He ain’t wrong.” Johnny points out with a smile when Dally takes a drag and blows smoke at the both of them.

            Dallas smiles a little then and Johnny practically glows while Pony laughs around his smoke. It’s an easy moment, the kind that let’s that tight thing that usually sits high up in his shoulders relax, but nothing ever stays easy.

             It takes them a minute or two to untangle themselves, what with Dally’s ribs, but when Dallas leads them back downstairs they’re not near as jumpy as they’d been when they’d first showed up soaked and terrified. Johnny’s even smiling a little, corner of his mouth ticked up as he stares at Dally and Pony keeps sliding him not so furtive glances.

            He’d be lying if he said it didn’t make him feel good.  

            He watches them go, Pony’s fingers laced haphazardly with Johnny’s as they make for the train, and heads back upstairs to try and get some sleep.


End file.
